


The Abduction of Proserpinos

by charivari



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/M, Femdom, Finger Sucking, Gender or Sex Swap, Kidnapping, Oral Sex, Role Reversal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 08:44:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5660164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Retelling of Hades/Persephone myth in a fantasy setting. Fem-Hades, Male-Persephone. Gender swap.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Abduction of Proserpinos

Chloris was a small territory just over the border. It was part of the Rhean kingdom and thus off-limits to any person of the south, especially it's warlord. But Hadria Plutonis had reason for travelling there. Rumor was the youngest bastard son of the God-King resided in Lycoris. What better way to gain advantage over her rival than by capturing his child. So she had ridden her black stallion Tyranos from her castle Gullswoop, across the Deathlands and border to sunny Lycoris in search of the one called Proserpinos.

Chloris was well known as flower country. Each field she passed was bright with blooming flowers. One of the exports of Chloris was perfumes. Even the God-King and his family wore their concoctions. But in Lycoris itself one only had to walk through the fields to be doused in their scent. Hadria's nose scrunched up. She detested the smell of brightness, of light. She preferred staleness, decay, sea air. All that could be found in her own kingdom. If she stayed too long in this place she would surely go mad. All the more reason to act with haste. The God-King's spy birds were everywhere. Eagles, ravens, even innocent-looking finches. All could report her presence back to their master in Skycourt.

Word was that Proserpinos was a shepherd. A humble profession for a King's son though his mother was only a gardener. Once the royal gardener and flower artisan. She had caught the King's eye, become pregnant with his bastard. The story went the Queen had discovered the affair and banished Demetria and her unborn son back to Lycoris, Demetria's birth-home. They had not been left destitute however. The God-King had given his mistress a generous lump of gold as a parting gift. Demetria had used it to buy a large home, part of a perfumery and a herd of sheep that her son now tended. They were said to be Chloris' wealthiest family.

In spite of this Demetria made her son work instead of living a life of leisure. All the easier for Hadria to snatch him out in the open. She just had to find him. Up ahead she spied a flock of sheep, white as fluffy clouds. There was a figure amongst them in a hat and coat. She spurred Tyranos towards him. The sheep retreated in fear at the black horse' approach. But the youth, she could tell as they got closer, remained still. He was beautiful, there was no other word to describe him, despite the caution in his large blue eyes. They were startling blue, surrounded by thick eyelashes. It was said the God-King had blue eyes though she never encountered him without his helmet. Perhaps this youth was the bastard Proserpinos.

He lacked the God-King's bulk. He was slender, almost frail. She could probably knock him out with a single punch. His brows were thick and expressive, nose chiseled and mouth, plump, sensual. When he opened it, his teeth were perfect and white, as he flashed her a nervous smile.

"Good afternoon my Lady," his voice was deep, a man's voice but with a musical lilt. It also shook slightly.

Hadria almost smiled. She was often mistaken for a man in her black armor, despite the way her chest-plate shaped over her breasts. She was also wearing her helmet, disguising most of her face. Her black hair was loose but long hair was not an indication of feminity in this age. The youth's own curls hung just above his shoulders. Perhaps he knew who she was. Knew from her red-eyed mount and her black armor who she was. The warlord of Yaos. This was likely the reason for his nerves. She was not some weak Chlorian maiden.

And he did not seem like some ordinary shepherd boy.

"I am looking for the one called Proserpinos," she told him, voice sharp and authoritative.

The youth seemed to jump. His beautiful eyes darted about, up at her, over her shoulder, to her sword on her back. The Crone was as infamous as Hadria herself. He gulped.

"I am he," he said finally.

She was a little surprised to have him admit it. She might have left him alone. More likely not. He made her groin tingle with desire. God-King's son or not, he would look beautiful chained in her dungeon, naked, vulnerable. It was enough to make her salivate.

"You're coming with me," she said.

Proserpinos looked like he might run. But surely he wasn't fast enough to outrace a horse, not one as reportedly fast as Tyranos. He looked to the ground, eyes bright as though he might cry. Hadria's arousal spiked. She was almost ready to dismount and violate him against a tree. But such a delay was dangerous. She could see a bird circling the air. One of his father's spies perhaps.

She was relieved when Proserpinos clenched his fists and walked dutifully to her side. He was slight enough for her to pull him up, in front so she could keep an eye around him. He fit against her almost perfectly and she breathed in his scent. He smelt more of flowers than sheep and it was enough to change her mind about the floral scent.

"No tricks now," she growled in his ear, "I'm taking you back to Gullswoop."

He nodded with a small whimper. Hadria almost moaned. So submissive. She ground against him slightly. Tyranos snorted, as if in disapproval or warning. They could not linger here. Refocusing Hadria looped her arms around the boy's to gather the reins. Tyranos only needed to slightest flick to break into a gallop towards home.

Tyranos knew the way well. Across the border into the Yaoline Swamp, through the Valley of Spears to the Ithyican Sea. There on the highest cliff-face lay Gullswoop, the ancient limestone fortress ruled by generations of her family. Her second in command Catonike was waiting at the entrance. The pretty woman smiled at her with rotting teeth,

"Success my Liege?" she said, eyeing Hadria's cargo.

"Indeed," Hadria replied, "This is Proserpinos, of Lycoris."

"Pretty," Catonike sniggered, "Shall I arrange a messenger to Skycourt?"

"There is no need," Hadria said, "I trust the God-King's own birds to inform him. In the meantime..."

She lifted Proserpinos to the ground. He swayed, pale and sickly, on wobbly legs.

"Have him bathed and fed and send him to my quarters," she told Catonike.

"Of course my Liege," Catonike gave a short bow and seized Proserpinos by the arm, "A bath and a feed, aren't you a special little pigeon."

Hadria watched her drag the youth away. She returned Tyranos to his stable, left him to care of Geryion her stable boy. Her quarters lay at the top of Gull's tallest tower. Her handmaid Lucretia was waiting for her by the fire, feet perched on Goliath, using the hound as a hairy footrest. But as soon as he heard his mistress, the dog sprung up, greeting her with loud barks. Lucretia, half the size of the hound struggled to pull him back from pawing at Hadria's armor.

"Down you brute, down!" she squealed.

Goliath ignored her, jumping up and down until Hadria ordered him to sit.

"Bloody dog don't listen to me," Lucretia grumbled as Goliath trotted back to the fire.

Hadria waited while she got her stool. She couldn't reach to unbutton her armor without it.

"Did you find him my Lady?" she asked while she worked.

Hadria nodded. Lucretia bobbed excitedly on her stool.

"And what's he look like? As handsome as they say."

Hadria smiled in response. Lucretia shrieked with laughter.

"Well don't you look like the cat who caught the mouse."

"A pretty mouse," Hadria said, causing to Lucretia to shriek again.

She was rough and noisy but a capable maid. She left Hadria by the fire while she put away her armor and drew a hot bath. Hadria sighed as she slipped under the water. There was nothing better for aching muscles after a long journey. She relaxed as Lucretia sponged her back, washed her hair.

"I'm expecting a guest," she told her, "Tell the cooks to prepare a light supper for two and bring it up here."

Lucretia took off while a giggle. Hadria knew she would take time to gossip with the cooks. She didn't mind with the water still hot and soothing. Goliath sidled over for a head scratch. The rhythmic motion of her hand coupled with the warm embrace of the water made her sleepy. She closed her eyes. The next thing she heard was Lucretia's shrieking.

"Yaos’ soul, my Lady, wake up. You'll drown sleepin' in the bath."

Hadria sat more upright with a yawn.

"Wouldn't that be ironic?"

Her ancestors, according to legend, had been witch and a sea-god. On this very cliff Yaos the witch had been sentenced to burn at the stake. The sea-god Ithyicus had spotted the procession, fallen in love Yaos and had sent a great wave to wash over the cliff, dragging her assailants into the ocean to drown. Only Yaos survived, bound her to stake. Ithyicus had sent gulls to peck at her bindings. They had married and Ithyicus had built Gullswoop as a palace for his bride since she couldn't live with him under the water. Their daughter Messina had succeeded her mother's rule, beginning a dynasty of female rulers. Messina had been born with a fishtail and often dived from the cliff to swim with her father. This feature had been bred out of consequent generations through marriages with human men. The only remnant of it was Hadria's webbed toes. She wriggled them in front of her, loss in thought until Lucretia's voice broke through her reverie.

"What you want to wear for this guest?"

"My black dress should do," Hadria said thoughtfully, "And my crown of course."

She only wore it on special occasions. It was gold band studded with pearls. Ithyicus had dived for each one himself. It would do nicely to enforce to Proserpinos exactly who she was. A Queen. His ruler, as long as he resided over her roof. She would normally wear armor to remind people of her fearlessness. But in Proserpinos' case, feminity was preferable, hence the dress she hardly wore. It was comfortable enough, floating black silk. It was just that armor had always appealed to her. She had the same temperament as her grandmother Cassia. A warrior who had defended the castle from pirate siege. She had burnt their ships and taken their Captain, Brackish John, as her slave.

Hadria remembered her grandfather, so obedient and soft-spoken she could hardly believe he had once been a hardened pirate. Cassia had conquered him in more ways than one. He had loved her too. There had only been devotion in his eyes when he looked at the Queen. As Lucretia slipped the silk dress over Hadria's head, she thought that was how she wanted Proserpinos to look at her. With adoration.

She wrapped a bear-fur coat about herself for warmth, sat somewhat impatiently while Lucretia combed her hair. There was no time for elaborate braiding. Hadria was grateful of that. She was happy for Lucretia to plop the crown on her head and be done with it. Goliath sat on her feet, warning them better than fire. His nose rose at the smell of food. Lucretia answered the knock on the door, Goliath on her heels. It was Proserpinos bearing a tray containing their supper. How thoughtful of Catonike to send both up at the same time. Hadria gave a sharp order to Goliath before he knocked the poor boy over.

"Take him to the kitchen Loo," she told Lucretia, "Have the cook give him a ham bone."

As if he understood Goliath let Lucretia pull him out the door. Proserpinos stood on the spot, tray rattling as he shivered. His curls were still damp and Catonike had cruelly dressed him in only a thin tunic. It gave Hadria a fine view of his legs but he had to be freezing.

"No need to stand on ceremony," she said, "Set that down over there."

She pointed to a stone table. Proserpinos obeyed, setting down the tray with a rattle and turning to her, expression piteous as he hugged himself for warmth.

"Yaos' soul, stand near the fire," she snapped, "You're making me feel cold."

Proserpinos didn't have to be asked twice. He practically flew over the fire's warmth. Hadria watched, liking the way the fire illuminated his profile.

"What did Catonike feed you?" she asked.

He made a face,

"I don't know but it tasted like dirt."

Hadria laughed. Gruel by the sounds of it. The kind they served to disobedient soldiers along as part of their punishment. Dirt was definitely a component.

"That certainly won't do," she said, "Not for the God-King's son."

The boy sighed.

"That's why I'm here isn't it."

He sighed again when she nodded.

"He won't pay a random if that's what you're thinking."

"And why not?" Hadria asked, intrigued.

Proserpinos clenched his fists,

"Because... because he doesn't care about me," his voice shook with resentment, "He's never visited or sent a letter."

"But he left your mother in considerable wealth," Hadria pointed out, "That indicates he cares for your welfare."

"He probably only did it to make himself look good," Proserpinos replied bitterly, "It doesn't look good for your mistress and bastard to be beggars on the roadside."

"It doesn't look good to let your flesh and blood be held hostage by the enemy," Hadria countered.

Proserpinos was silent, forehead crinkled. Whether he agreed or not, he did not say.

"Come," Hadria was surprised by her gentle tone of voice, "It's only matter of time 'til your father acts to free you. In the meantime I will keep your well-fed and looked after..." she looked at him sternly, "But only if you behave."

Proserpinos stared at the floor with a pained expression. His curls glistened beautifully in the firelight.

"Yes," he mumbled.

"Good," Hadria boomed, rising from her chair, "You can serve us dinner."

Proserpinos followed her reluctantly. The table was far enough from the fire to cause him discomfort. His shivering agitated her enough to throw off her coat.

"Here," she thrust it at him, "I can't have you dying of hypothermia."

He look almost amazed at her gift,

"But..." he trailed off, too cold to question her generosity and plucked it from her hand.

Hadria, living in this climate all her life, was hardened enough not to feel the chill too extremely. She took a seat and ordered him to serve. Wrapped in her coat, he moved with more enthusiasm, serving her the plate of crab and greens the cooks had prepared. He waited for her nod to snatch his own plate and take a seat. The gruel had made no dent in his appetite and he wolfed down the crab. Hadria ate more absent-mindedly, intrigued by his animalistic table manners. He wasn't some prim palace brat who carefully placed morsels in their mouth one by one and chewed sensibly. It would have been outrageous for him to lick his fingers at Skycourt.

But to Hadria there was something sensual in the way he sucked his fingers. She pushed back her chair, causing him to freeze, hand falling to his lap as he watched her approach. His eyes narrowed in confusion as she extended her hand near his mouth.

"Open," she said.

After a beat Proserpinos slowly opened his mouth. His obedience caused a tingle of arousal. Excited, she slipped a finger inside. To her surprise he clamped around it without order and began sucking. It was a strange sensation, nonetheless one that made her go damp between the legs. It was obedient way he accepted each finger, like a whore with a cock, the way he stared up at her, his intense blue stare. He sucked all ten digits dutifully.

"How do I taste?" she asked, voice husky.

He lowered his head, embarrassed.

"Good," he admitted.

Hadria was delighted. She looked down at his lap. It had become too gloomy to discern an erection. She turned, beckoning him to follow. In the firelight she was able to see the slight bulge of arousal.

"Are you a virgin?" she asked.

Proserpinos was startled. It took him awhile to answer.

"No," he murmured, looking a mite fearful as if this admission might displease her.

Hadria was a little disappointed, though it made sense that a boy as beautiful as Proserpinos wouldn't lack female admirers. Ones willing to spread their legs.

"Well," she murmured, "At least you'll know what you're doing. On your knees."

Proserpinos looked confused. Previous partners must have never given such instruction. Nonetheless he dropped to his knees, a somewhat dubious expression on his face. Hadria stepped a little closer, then bent, reaching for the hem of her dress, sweeping it up to reveal her sex. Proserpinos stared wide-eyed. He must not have taken the proper time to study a cunt before. Perhaps other girls had been, paradoxically, too shy. Now he had the opportunity he appeared mesmerized.

However Hadria was impatient. With her free hand, she dragged a hand through his curls, pulling his face close to where she wants him. His eyes rolled up to look at her.

"Lick," she growled, heat nestling in her cheeks.

Tentatively his tongue emerged. She whimpered as it brushed her lightly, disappearing back into his mouth. He looked up at her again, a smile forming on his face. His tongue darted back out to her sex before she has time to command him. He licked gently at first, slow laps that tease more than satisfy. She jostled his head impatiently. At that wordless command he intensified his assault. His tongue explored her sex with a new ferocity, delving inside her entrance, sliding upwards to find her secret bud. She buckled in pleasure, grinding his face against her cunt. He seemed to understand he had discovered a particularly sensitive spot, lapping at it with an almost frenzied determination. Hadria made no attempt to disguise her pleasure, her moans filling the room as she bucked against his mouth, desperate for him to bring her to ecstasy.

To her joy he succeeded. She came, roaring, quaking against him. It was only when she ceased shaking that she released her grip on his head. He looked up, mouth slick with her juices, eyes hungry, almost pleading. His erection had grown in ferocity, straining against his long tunic. Hadria pulled him to his feet, tugging off the coat and the tunic from over his head. She pushed him on the chair and climbed on top, reaching under for his sex, guiding it to her cunt. Their cries mingled as she impaled herself on it. There was no pain or blood. Like him she was no virgin and her yearning made her endless wet. She fucked herself on his cock roughly, desperately, milking beautiful moans from his mouth. He freed her breasts and suckled them like a hungry infant, tearing his mouth away to express one syllable,

"I..." his voice shook and his seed suddenly filled her.

It was a glorious feeling.  She, the cause of this beautiful youth's orgasm. Content but overheated, she shrugged off her dress and snuggled naked beside him. He only moved to drag the fur coat over them as a blanket, then nuzzled up to her shoulder. Hadria didn't realize she had dozed off until Lucretia's footsteps roused her. She looked to see Proserpinos rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

Lucretia stood before them with a tray,

"Pardon the interruption my Lady," there was a grin plastered on her face, "I thought you might like some desert."

Hadria gave her something of unamused look. Lucretia was lucky she tolerated her insolence.

"What is it?" she growled.

"Pomegranate and cream," Lucretia revealed the bowl with a flourish.

"I'll eat it," Proserpinos piped up boldly.

Hadria laughed, nodding at Lucretia to approach. She let him devour the entire bowl, stroking his hair. When he was done, he leaned to kiss her, allowing her taste the sweetness coating his mouth. Then he snuggled against her breasts and fell asleep. Hadria remained awake, clutching him possessively.

Even if the God-King offered all his gold or waged a war, she would not give up her beloved Proserpinos.


End file.
